WOTD: Worth It
by Guardian Kysra
Summary: Thank you, Kami-sama. Thank you so much for her. Clannad Afterstory. Tomoya/Nagisa


Author's Note: Cuz it's CLANNAD and that is my favorite scene EVER. Especially now that I have a kid of my own. Written years ago (before my kid was even on the way). Not edited.

WORTH IT

A Word of the Day Ficlet

By Kysra

One second, he's calling out to his collapsed little daughter and surrounded by snow. The next, he is standing in the street, near the hill that leads to their high school; but it's not as he remembers it. He is still - unnaturally so, but so is the air, the trees, the sakura petals frozen in front of his face, and the light of the sun stained an icy blue tinge.

He looks up the hill then swings his gaze to the side, to look at her loafers. He's been here before. In this exact moment, this is when his life began . . . and ended, the moment he met Nagisa.

He's standing just three steps behind her, and if this were Before - the first time, he would call out to her. But knowing what he does now . . . remembering every moment that follows, he's not sure if he wants to experience it again.

She had planted a fragile seed of something bright and alive within him when he had felt empty and worthless inside; and when she died, that seed had perished with her.

He is about to move when she does. Her eyelids are low, shadowing her eyes, and though she glances at him, her feet take her toward him, pausing only a moment when they are side by side.

 _Had they not promised to always remain thus? Hadn't he prayed and wished for one more moment, one more touch, kiss, embrace,_ _ **chance**_ _?_

And then she's gone from his sight - as she has been for years now - but he can hear the soles of her shoes brushing against the pavement in a slow rhythm of hesitant footfalls.

Each step she takes, a memory awakens - is cast in gold and burns into his chest. He is aware that - should he remain here, frozen and silent - his entire world will change, his history will be different; and he tries to imagine that other life, one without her to support and encourage him, without her to hold and care for, without her to give him a family, without her and -

Suddenly, it's as if he has woken from a long, dark dream; and the air is suddenly warm, the chill of fall casting the street in shades of orange, the sakura petals dancing upon the breeze, the sound of distant traffic reaching his ears. His heart starts to beat again (though he didn't know it had stopped in the first place), hammering and panicked because he nearly let her go and he never, ever, _ever_ wants to endure such a life.

He screams her name but she remains turned away, walking further from him; and he swears to himself, swears it, that if she is the one who wants to let him go, he can handle it as long as he gets to see her face one last time.

So, he drops his satchell from nerveless fingers and runs as fast as his legs can carry him, and nearly bowls her over, sweeping her off her feet and into a tight embrace, his face burrowing into her neck. "Nagisa, I'm right here."

Her hand is a warm brand against his shoulder and her voice (how had he existed without hearing that sweet sound for so, so long?) sears into his blood, "Tomoya-kun, I'm glad that you called out to me." She pulls away just enough to allow him to look at her, her smile - just as he remembers - causing his stomach to flutter. "I was worried that you might have been thinking we shouldn't meet."

It's too close to the truth; and though he has had little to say to Kami-sama in the last five years, he can't help but giving an internal whisper as he pulls her close again, savoring her warmth, her _life_ . . . _Thank you, Kami-sama. Thank you so much for her._

"I'm glad that I met you, Tomoya-kun." She says softly, her breath flowing across his cheek. It reminds him of their many but too few nights together. As shy as she usually was in waking, in sleep she was a snuggler. "I was so happy."

He wants, so badly, to tell her he's sorry, to explain why he couldn't bring himself to perform her last wish as he should have, but as he says her name (and it feels so good to say it to _her_ and not air anymore), she interrupts, smiling at him still, "So, don't hold back any longer . . . no matter what happens from now on, please don't regret that we met."

He's holding to her shoulders, afraid that if he stops touching her, she'll vanish like the snow he had previously been laying in. He won't disappoint her this time. He'll never, ever regret anything involving her again. Even if he's doomed to lose her. Even if this is the last time he ever sees her, feels her, hears her.

His silence must worry her though the smile remains fixed on her lips. "Is that okay?"

His eyes are filled with tears but he can feel an answering smile curving his mouth as he cups her cheeks, savoring the texture of her skin against his. "You're right." She always was. Always.

So, he listens to her. He isn't holding back anymore. He knows what it means to lose every following opportunity, therefore he's going to take this one. Grasping her hands (so tiny - why had did she have to die for him to notice?), he brings them to his lips, kissing each palm with restrained passion. She gasps a bit, her eyes glued to his; and he can't take it anymore.

She squeaks that little embarrassed squeak he remembers so well as he takes her into his arms again - more completely this time, lifting her clear off the ground and holding her flush against him.

Never again does he want her - alive or dead - worrying over whether he regretted meeting her. Never again would he give her a reason to question his love, his loyalty, or faith in her.

Because in the end, he knows it doesn't matter if he loses her years ago, today, tomorrow, or in a decade. As long as he knows her, loves her (because they are one and the same), any time spent in her presence is worth it.

Word: Acceptation


End file.
